


Dressing for the Weather

by redseeker



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9366434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redseeker/pseuds/redseeker
Summary: Written for tformers-secret-santa 2016. Tailgate and Cyclonus exchange gifts in the cold.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Magical_Bot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Bot/gifts).



“Cyclonus, come and look at this!”

Tailgate stood with his palms upraised, his face tilted up. His feet had sunk into the soft white powder covering the planet’s surface, and he was gazing in wonder as more of the stuff fell in slow eddies from the violet sky. Cyclonus remained in the shuttle door with his arms folded, watching sceptically.

“What is it?” he said. He sounded suspicious and disapproving, but his gruff demeanour softened a little when Tailgate turned back to look imploringly at him. The minibot’s bright blue visor was surprisingly expressive, and Cyclonus knew him well enough by now to recognise when his own signature brand of cynicism would be hurtful. He didn’t want to see that happiness disappear from Tailgate’s face. He glanced up at what he considered the inclement weather.

“Snow!” Tailgate said. “Come out here.”

Keeping his complaints to himself, Cyclonus stepped down out of the shuttle and onto the planet.

They had stopped at the organic planet ostensibly to resupply at the nearby city, visible on the horizon, but as Cyclonus and Tailgate had both found themselves superfluous to the mission, Tailgate had suggested they take the opportunity for a much-needed break. While the others had headed into the city in search of entertainment and misadventure, Cyclonus had accompanied Tailgate beyond the city limits, to where the organic world’s wilderness began. He kept his sensors alert and half an optic on his surroundings, always watching for potential threats, but found none. There was only Tailgate, and the snow.

The snow dampened sound, making the overlook where they had set down feel more secluded. He held his hands out, imitating Tailgate, and watched some of the snowflakes settle upon his palms.

“I don’t fully understand the appeal,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Tailgate. “It’s just nice to have a little time to ourselves, don’t you think?”

“Hm.” Cyclonus dusted some of the snow off the top of Tailgate’s helm. “You’re going to freeze your joints in this cold,” he said. “I took the liberty of picking up some cold weather gear while I was in town.”

Tailgate gave him an inquisitive look, and Cyclonus gruffly reached inside his subspace and retrieved the item he had purchased just joors earlier. It had seemed like a practical choice at the time, but now for some reason he felt awkward about it. Just finding a store that sold Cybertronian-sized garments had seemed like such a victory that he would have been a fool to have walked on by.

“Here,” he said, not meeting Tailgate’s optics as he offered the box to him.

“What…? A present? For me?”

“Don’t read too much into it,” Cyclonus warned.

Tailgate opened the box and pulled out the sweater Cyclonus had picked out. The minibot made a small sound of surprise and held the sweater up, dropping the box onto the snow.

“It may be a little large,” said Cyclonus. His faceplates felt warm, despite the wintry chill. “There wasn’t a terrific selection.” Tailgate’s visor had begun to glow extra brightly, and Cyclonus frowned in concern. “Are you all right?”

“I love it,” said Tailgate. 

It was blue, with some kind of design on it. Cyclonus thought it might be stars. He had chosen it in such a hurry, having felt flustered about the entire situation and eager to get the transaction over and done with before he lost his nerve. 

“Help me put it on right now!” said Tailgate.

Cyclonus’s awkwardness receded when he saw how pleased Tailgate was with the gift, and was replaced with a warm sense of achievement. He brushed most of the snow off Tailgate’s helm and shoulders, and then took the sweater from him. Tailgate raised his arms, and Cyclonus put the sweater on him, gently tugging it here and there until it sat as well as it could on the little bot. It was too big – the bottom of it reached Tailgate’s knees, and the sleeves trailed past his hands.

“Here,” Cyclonus said, and carefully rolled first one sleeve and then the other up to Tailgate’s wrists. “Better,” he said, although he was still critical.

Tailgate didn’t seem to share Cyclonus’s doubts. He spread his arms out and did a little twirl, only to overbalance and land aft-first in the snow.

“I love it,” he said again. Cyclonus reached out to help him back onto his feet, but Tailgate tugged his hand unexpectedly and pulled Cyclonus down to the ground to join him instead. Tailgate leaned up and gently bumped his faceplate against Cyclonus’s mouth. Cyclonus recovered from his surprise quickly, and in time to return what he knew to be a kiss. He pressed his lips against Tailgate’s mask, and then smiled fondly.

“I got you something too,” said Tailgate. Cyclonus blinked, and then gave a small, subtle gasp as Tailgate pulled a bundle from his subspace. “I didn’t have time to wrap it, I hope you don’t mind. Here…” In Tailgate’s hands was a long, light violet scarf. The stitches were thick, and a little uneven here and there. “I made it myself,” Tailgate said sheepishly. Cyclonus’s face was still, but his optics shone with concealed emotion. “Can I…?”

Cyclonus gave the tiniest nod, and Tailgate got to his feet and reached up, standing on his toes to wrap the scarf around the much bigger mech’s neck. When he stood back, Cyclonus touched his claws to the soft yarn.

“Do you like it?”

Cyclonus stared at Tailgate, and then swept past his surprise and made himself smile. It was only the barest curve of his lips, but Tailgate would know it for the genuine show of emotion that it was.

“Thank you,” he said. It cost him nothing to be gracious, and in actuality he was touched. He loved it.

He reached out and scooped Tailgate up in his arms. He stood up and lifted the minibot as he did so, placing another kiss on Tailgate’s faceplate. Tailgate wrapped his arms around Cyclonus’s neck and nuzzled against him.

“How did you know I might need it?” Cyclonus asked. It was starting to snow harder now, and he turned his face up to feel the snowflakes land gently upon his cheeks. He was starting to see the beauty of the stuff, he supposed, even if he couldn’t quite share in Tailgate’s unfettered enthusiasm.

“I guess I didn’t,” Tailgate admitted. “I just wanted to have a try at making something, since you liked the horn so much, and this seemed like a good option.” He shrugged. “It worked out, right?”

“Right,” Cyclonus said. He shifted Tailgate in his arms so he could hold him more easily, using just the one arm, and Tailgate cuddled in against him. The sun was setting beyond the city, and the snow was still coming down fast. The two mechs watched the sky go from violet to deep indigo as the sun went down. Each of them was wrapped up warm against the cold, although, with the warmth in their sparks, they wouldn’t have felt the chill anyway.


End file.
